We Will All Freeze
by doutzenohh
Summary: She's broken. He's a prince. In the land of Llewelyn, ice rules all, and love is the only weapon to conquer the oncoming war. #frozen #riseoftheguardians #jelsa
1. Prologue

A story for the wild.  
A story for the sad.  
A story for the romantics.  
A story for the heroes.

For the d***head I call a lover.


	2. Screams in the Dark

My arms are above my head, chained. I hear nothing but the slow dripping of water. The same icy water that dribbles onto my damp neck and down my freshly whipped back.

It's been eleven days. Eleven days since I have seen a pitcher of water or a morsel of food. The water falling on my skin the only salvation.

Letting my head fall back I open my mouth to let the water drip down my throat. My hair tickles the rounds of my butt, the muddy blonde hair is my only personal blanket of warmth.

My clothing falls on me like rags, strips of muslin barely cover the swells of my breasts. I was at least treated with the decency of keeping my own undergarments.

Shivering from near freezing winds, I knew my escape from this part of Llewelyn was anything but a success. I was nothing to this court, nothing to the city known as Eira. Being chained to the stone cave around me, I knew their was little hope of me surviving, which is what King Colden no doubt wants.

I'm a threat to him, and being Eira's notable thief and fighter, I was just one more thing to get out of his way.

"This way!"

The sound was coming from outside the cave. Hopefully whoever it was would just get it over with and kill me.

Twenty-five guards. All with icy staffs of power. Power to freeze, control, and kill me. The wooden sticks were accustomed to Eira, and anyone with the power to wield one, was either nobility or a soldier.

"Don't let her get the upper hand." It was Orwen, Head Soldier and biggest thorn in my ass. "She's a skilled fighter and thief, and watch her hands!"

Ah, my hands, you mean the palms that can pierce ice through your heart. Yes, watch out for the hands.

"Hello to you too, Orwen," I love playing with the enemy-probably why I'm locked up. "What's the plan for today?"

Orwen brings a step stool beside me. "The King has plans for you. You're to be cleaned before he meets with you. For fuck's sake you smell."

"Sorry, if I knew you were coming, I would've pissed myself to make it better for you."

Orwen grabs hold of my jaw roughly and forces me to look at him. "You may be a nice looking piece of ass, but your tongue does nothing for your looks."

"Orwen!" I glance to the mouth of the cave, and Orwen's face drops, along with his hand gripping my face. "She may be my father's prisoner, but she is still a lady, and you will treat her with respect."

"My Prince," he turns and bows in front of the prince. "I'm sorry if I offended you, but this," he looks back at me, his eyes grazing up from my toes to my head, "_thing_ is not a lady."

"Watch who you're talking to, Orwen," the prince snaps.

Orwen instantly bows again, "I mean no disrespect."

The prince waves him off, "Untie her, I'll escort her. Damn man, how many guards do you need?"

Orwen returns to my chained wrists. "She's dangerous, Sir." Orwen's eyes don't conceal the hatred he has for me.

"All of you, go back to your posts."

"Sir!"

Again the prince waves him off. Orwen unties my second wrists and his hand shoves my back. From not walking in weeks, I fall to the ground, my arms too weak to support me.

I feel someone close to me and notice the prince has kneeled in front of me. I bow my head inward to my chest, begging him to not be like his father.

A weight lays on my back and I surpress at the new load. The rabbit fur coat is still warm from his body temperature. I snuggle into the coat, and know I will probably pass out sometime soon. My answers are short lived as I feel strong, muscled arms under my arms and knees.

The smell of jolly and musk is the last thing I remember.


	3. Makeup Will Never Hide the Scars

The round tub was steaming. A maid was undressing me when I awoke. I no longer feared nakedness. My legs were shaky as I stepped into the basin, and if it wasn't for the maid I was sure to collapse.

"What's your name?" I looked over to the maid.

"Blanche," she says as she pulls my hair over the lip of the basin. "Oil?"

She holds up an ornate bottle of gold liquid. I nod like a baby with a pastry dangling in my face. Blanche's lips smirk up and she uncorks the bottle and pours the oily substance. Rose and lemons fill my nose and I relax further into the hot water. Blanche moves behind my head and starts combing the mud out of the strands.

"How long have you been here?" I ask her, as I slip further into the water, my knees diving up from the water.

"Six," she says and I let myself turn in the tub, the tips of my hair brushing across the water.

"Orphaned?"

"No," she replies as she hands me a cloth with soap. "Sold into slavery, and King Colden bought me and my...services."

I narrowed my eyes, letting the soapy cloth scrub away the impurities. "Services?"

She nods as she stands and hangs a silver satin dress with diamonds sewn into the tulle. The tulle that was placed nicely over my breasts and the apex of my thighs.

"All women bought by the king are placed under services for the nobility." Her face turns red as she mutters under her breath. "Sexual services."

Three hours later my hair was gently curled, and the icy dress smoothed over my body. I asked for a cloak, to cover my bare assets, but none was given. So I accepted the stares of all I passed. I followed Blanche around Eria's palace. A palace I never wanted to ever be in. A palace encrusted with silver and frozen waterfalls that look like selenite and run over the edge of floors.

Walking through the windowless halls filled with people almost had me running. The court of Eria always wore the finest of white silk and the most expensive diamonds. The palace was dressed the same. White walls encrusted with silver leaf, high ceilings and long hallways were made to make you feel small.

I've only seen the palace from outside, and I thought that was enough to take my breath away. In these rooms, ladies dressed in ruffles and high hairstyles; with white makeup and signature moles over the right of the lip.

All the gorgeous people were staring at me. _At me!_ I instantly wanted to hide behind the lush curtains, and never be found again. Men and women alike scanned their eyes from my toes to my forehead, with most eyes staying more then a couple seconds on my barely covered parts.

I followed Blanche, never lifting my head. The wind in these windowless halls had the tulle of my dress swaying all over. My hair was loosely braided down my back and as Blanche stopped at a open door, I froze.

Laughter and talking filled the ballroom. I refused to move, this was barbaric. Sure I can fight but in the room, my chances were slim. I unknowingly took a step back and Blanche put her hand on my shoulder.

"Don't piss him off," she says to me. "If you want to keep your head, do what he tells you to do."

Blanche hardly had any time to finish her sentence when a loud rumble of laughter filled my ears.

"Ladies and gentleman, I have done it." The room falls quiet as King Colden stands from his outrageous large chair. "I have captured Isolde's fighter, Elsandra Nereida."

I hate that name, that sigma this king has placed on me. _Isolde's Fighter_. Name me after the ice goddess herself. It was a stab in the gut, a push to the ground. I was not from the blood of Isolde, I was born from nothing. To claim me as such is blasphemous.

"I have decided to present her to someone who would love to enjoy her," his voice was rough. Not be presented but to be a present. "For his bravery in defeating the rebel villages, I give this girl to my son, Jack."

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat but my mouth went dry. I looked towards the prince, his palm over the top of his goblet, his other hand pushing the left side of his temple. He looked anything but thrilled. Colden looked at his son, and with a swift kick under the table, the prince stood.

"Thank you Father," he starts and then his dark blue eyes look to me. "She is by far the greatest gift I could receive."

Colden slaps his son on his shoulder as Jack returns to his seat, the king's eyes returning to me.

"If you do your part girl, you won't be thrown over the waterfall." My body chilled at his words.

I was to stand behind the prince's chair for the rest of the feast. His messy icy blonde hair disheveled, and his right foot up on the chair. His arm bent over that knee, bored. Blanche was gone and I was alone. I wasn't offered food or that sweet smelling wine and I'm sure the entire ballroom heard my stomach grumble. I was not looked at but merely a decorational piece. My eyes stared at the opposite wall, rage filled my bloodstream.

I was never going to be captured, yet it happened. I would play my part, get out of here and complete was I was meant to do. Lost in my thoughts, I didn't even realize the man in front of Jack. His hair long and brown, his body muscular, his green eyes and wait, Blanche standing behind him. She redressed and wore a gorgeous dress of green silk. Her long hair was released from his maid's bonnet and cascaded down her back, and her ears and neck dripping in jewels. There was no way this was the same woman.

I stood up straighter and caught her attention, she gave a sharp shake of her head and I immediately sunk back into whatever thoughts I could have left.

"What a marvelous gift," said the man. Colden smiles, and Jack just smirked. Was I not what he asked for—good, he wasn't my top favorite either.

"Asher," said Colden, giving the man a name. "I must thank the lovely Duchess for her help."

Blanche escapes the shadow of Asher and bowed low, "Thank you, My King. My husband and I are grateful for preparing such a gift for the prince."

Husband? Duchess? My head was whirling.

"Don't keep her all to yourself, Jay," Asher looked at Jack. Jay? A nickname? A rebel? Asher stuck his hand out for 'Jay' to shake and the prince grabbed hold of it.

"I don't share," Jack smirks and when their hands connect, Asher turns Jack's hand over exposing his wrist.

There in the paleness of the prince's wrist were pink lines. Jack ripped his hand away and Asher shook his head.

"Jay," started Asher, but the prince cut him off.

"Have a great rest of your evening, Duke."

Asher said no more as he bowed and left the presence of the table. The prince brought his exposed wrist closer to him and snapped the sleeve of his jacket back over his hand.

Within seconds he was turned in his seat and looking at me. He stands abruptly, the ballroom becoming silent. His white bangs cover parts of his blue eyes. His eyes narrow at me before he grabs my arm and forcefully pulls me out of the ballroom.

The only sound escaping into the hallway was the roar of King Colden's ice cold laughter and, the slam of a door as the prince pushes me into a broom closet.

Locking the door with a swift _click_.

**Side note: I didn't want to use the same traditional names from the movies. **


	4. Can’t Breathe

The closet was dark, and the only sound was coming from our heavy breathing.

I can feel the prince's fingers creep up my arm and quickly circle around my neck. He pins me back, pushing into my throat.

"I might've treated you with kindness that day in the prisoner's cave, but you are not my gift. You are nothing to me. Thanks to my fucking father you'll be around me more then what I like. Therefore, everything you see, hear, or touch is in high secret. Do you understand me?" I nodded my head but still that wasn't good enough. He brings me forward slightly and slams me back into the wall. "Answer me."

"Yes, My Prince," I rasp, and his fingers slowly remove themselves from the crevice of my neck.

"That's another thing," he releases me and I fall to the floor coughing. "I'm Jay, not Jack, and certainly not anyone's prince. Got it?"

I nod my head not looking at him, but his palms slam down on my shoulders and he brings me to my feet.

"Listen here," he says, his voice low. "You are nothing to me. You are a common whore on the corner of the streets. Any affection I show you, if there be any, is not because I like you. I've had other _gifts_ and they were disappointed when they were thrown back to the street urchins. It wouldn't matter though, would it?" His lips curl into a devilish smile. "You were bred on the streets. Fuck, you are the filth of Llewelyn."

My nostrils flared. I was trying everything not to attack the son of a bitch with as much power from my palms I could muster. Although if I gave into the urge, and impaled him with ice, I would just die too. So I did the next worse thing. Something that could get me thrown in the stocks or back in that fucking cave.

I spat in his face.

He pushed me away, to use his hands to clear my spit from his face. I unlocked the door and ran. Ran and ran. Ran until my feet bled in these ice slippers.

I found some stairs. Stairs that led down further and further. So far that I could see my breath. Red footprints stood in my previous place. The slippers, I removed almost immediately but that left my skin to deal with the stony and cobblestone floors.

As I reached the bottom of the stairs, the floor was as cold as my blood. The lanterns were unlit and no windows were placed among the walls. I walked until I could hardly see a blue glow far in front of me.

I followed the orb and let the light guide me.

When I reached the blue light, it was a misty circle around a wooden staff. Almost like a shepherd's staff, I stepped closer. I let my hand reach out towards the circle and the misty spell tickled my fingers. I was surprised, expecting to have been pushed back by the circle but I felt a warm connection towards it.

I stepped forward, until I was inches away from the wooden staff. It was like I could hear music, laughter, as though the staff was making me drunk. I wanted that warmth, that happiness, that peacefulness, where nothing mattered. My mission, my role, nothing. The staff was not like the ones the soldiers used, but this one was bigger, encrusted with gemstones of all colors. The wood looked dewy, like it was defrosting from an ice bath.

I brought my fingertips out, just to touch the smooth wood. Just to get a morsel of happiness.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

I quickly turned around and saw Jay staring at me.

Jay's hand was wrapped tightly around my upper arm, and he was dragging me through the white and silver hallways. The lanterns were down on the last bit of candle wax and sure to extinguish soon.

Jay opens a set of double doors and throws me inside of the room. My elbows hit the hardwood floor first. I hear the door close with a swift _click _and then I feel him. He's standing over me, and I turn to look up at him. We're in his room. Alone.

"Tell me who you are and what magic you used to go through the barrier."

I narrowed my eyes, confused. "I didn't do anything."

He gets down onto the floor and again his fingers wrap around my neck. "Who _are _you?"

"Essie," I barely breathe out.

"How did you pass through the barrier?"

"I don't know," I answer him.

He released me and I fell to the floor, gasping for breath. "Get up," he tells me. "Now."

I again do what he wants and stand. He nods his head towards the bed. His bed.

"Put your arms around the bedpost," he tells me and shivers run through my body.

I turn away from him and walk slowly to the bed. The shuffle of doors closing and the lock clicking on the main door made me want to scream for help.

I was faced to the bedpost and hugged the etched wood.

"Wait," he says behind me. "Take the dress off."

I'm really shaking now, and I knew if I didn't comply, this situation would become worse. I slowly pulled the thin silk straps over my shoulder and then let the dress pool at my feet. I return to my position, hugging the bedpost.

How could this man, this prince save me in the cave, but can't seem to save me now. Was I a plaything, a toy?

"Where are you from?" He asks behind me.

"Here," I shutter.

"How were you captured?"

"I was running from Eria. This place is no longer my home."

"Where's your family?"

"I don't know. Probably dead in a gutter." It hurt to say it, but it was probably true.

"What spell did you use to break the barrier?"

I let my head touch the coolness of the bedpost. "I don't know."

And like a snake bite, a slash of pain ran across my back and I fell to my knees. Jay, the prince of Eria, was whipping me.

Jay handed me over to Blanche at the crack of dawn. The fog was hardly letting the sun shine onto the ice castle.

I was lying on my stomach in Blanche's room. The press of warm water cloths draped my back.

"I'm not going back," I tell her.

"Prince Jack is a little hard to understand sometimes," she replies and I scoff.

"You think? You know he mutilates his on wrists?"

Blanche looks down and nods, "Yes, Asher, my husband, was the one to find him almost dead. He won't accept anyone's help."

"He's too stubborn," I say.

"That's why we picked you." She grips my chin and has me look at her. "You two are identical in stubbornness. Since Asher married me and helped me leave the life of being a concubine, I vowed, we vowed to protect him. Asher and Jay grew up together, and Jay believes everyone has left him to rot."

I sit up, grunting, "Then why do this to me if he is in need of companionship?"

"He's testing you." It was Asher, who entered the room. "He's testing your strength."

"But why me?"

"You lasted almost an entire month in that cave," starts Blanche.

"Jay only lasted six days," finished Asher. "Colden isn't the nicest father. He believes in discipline and not fucking up. After Jay tried to take his life through his wrists, his father went crazy. Colden's policy is if you don't die from natural causes you'll die by the King's hand."

"This court is absurd," I say.

"Yes, it is," continues Asher. "Jay needs someone to lean on. Someone strong. Someone who will fight back. He wants you to argue with him, and he hates how submissive you are. Fight, Elsandra, fight for the truth."

I ended up sleeping on the floor in Jay's room. Still pissed, I didn't say two words to him. I remember what Asher said, but sometimes I'm afraid to fight back. I slept on my stomach, and led my mind fall into dreams.

The dreams didn't last long. I woke up to the smell of burning tobacco. I opened my eyes to see Jay in the chair by the fireplace.

My eyes widened as his torso was bare and a hissing sound came from his lips every so often. I lifted myself up and tried to look around the hooded chair. He was leaning forward and I kept telling myself to just fall back to sleep.

I slowly lay back down and that's when I saw the droplets of blood splatter onto the floor.


	5. Blood Type

I rush to my feet and take the knife from Jay's hand. Throwing it into the fireplace behind me, he looks furious but I don't care. I grab the corner of my nightgown and place pressure onto his arm.

"What the fuck is the matter with you," I scream at him.

"Leave me alone," he pushes me back but I catch myself.

"No, I'm not going to leave you alone. What to kill yourself?"

"That was the plan," he hisses as I press harder.

I couldn't control myself, but this man in front of me was stupid. So I raised my hand and slapped him across his face.

Jay's face was blank when he looked back at me. I slightly flinch for the incoming punishment I was preparing for, but I was thrown off guard. Thrown onto an entire different axis.

"Thank Isolde," Jay swears to the goddess and then brings my face to his. His lips touch my mine and I can feel the hardness of his chest as he pulls me into his lap.

This is so unnerving, so fast, and yet I love the touch of his lips against mine. His fingers tangled in my hair and the loss of oxygen was making my head fuzzy.

I let go of his mouth and our breathing was ragged. A page to a book turned as his dark ocean eyes found my icy ones. The beginning of a poem, the recantation of a love spell. We talked through our eyes, letting each other scan the darkest part of our souls.

Finally, after ages, he spoke. "I don't know much about you, Essie darling, but I do know that I found my equal."

Equal.

On his lap, I continued to search his eyes. "You are far more better then me. I fight, I steal, I kill."

"Don't I do the same?"

"As a monarch, yes," I begin, "People expect it. The people of Eria see me and their bones turn to ice."

"That's a facade. I know you—."

"No. You don't know me. Here," I placed my hand over his self inflicted wounds and he hissed as I let my power flow through my palm. When I take my hand away, the wound has frozen shut, and the blood grew to ice crystals. I stood from his lap. "I don't need a wooden staff to control my magic."

Jay looked at me like I was a bug being examined. "So you're not a Erian, so what?"

"This magic is exactly why I'm hunted. I steal, fight, and kill to protect myself. I'm not some dark alley murderer, I'm a girl trying to keep her and her sister safe."

I spoke too much.

"Sister?"

"No, you misunderstood."

"I don't believe I did," he stands and once again he looks down at me. "Is she like you?"

"No, she's harmless." I exhaled, well there's no reason to lie now. "We were born in Gowen Village."

"You're from that traitorous village?"

His snide remark made me feel little once again.

"I'm not like those who plan to assassinste you." I hold my hands up.

"No," he begins, "Although you were raised by them. You are exactly what I expected. You are nothing but a gutter whore."

"You're nothing but a psychotic princeling," I say back and in that moment I forgot who the slave really was.

Jay reaches for my hair and grabbed a handful before I could get away. He drags me back to his bedpost and I begin to scream. I will not be whipped again.

He throws me to the floor and he sees my hands begin to conjure snow, and in one single blow, I see black.

When I wake the sun is heating the room and making my headache ten times worse. The memories from last night—was it last night? How long was a I out?

Those memories freeze me. I need to get out of here. I stand and I glance around the room to see it empty. I run towards the door, but am whipped back with a shooting pain in my left ankle.

I sat up from the ground and noticed the sick bastard has me chained to the four poster bed that is nailed into the ground. With a limp in my leg I move slowly and see how far the chain lets me go.

I'm mere inches away from the door knob, what a sick fucker. Give me the hope to be able to escape but not really able to reach it.

I bend, squirm, and try anything to reach a window or that blasted door knob, but nothing. I exhaust myself to nothing and soon wither at the end of the bed like some dog. I use my hands as pillows and the exhaustion creeps over me like a black fog.

I wake to the door unlocking. My eyes are hardly able to stay open as Jay enters the room and locks the door once again. His appearance ignited a rage in me and I soon unleash my wrath from my palms.

Hard ice flows through my palms and aims at my target, but Jay knows my plans. He brings his arms up to cover himself and the ice catapults back to me. I was quick enough to turn the ice into sleet, it wasn't my first choice, but I'm alive just with more scars.

My palms raise again, this time encircling the prince in a thick ice wall. I knew he couldn't do anything about it. He had no staff, the last ricochet was just a chance of luck. Without that staff he was powerless.

"So powerful," he begins and I bring the icy point of the ice closer to his throat.

"Where's the key?" I ask him, my voice even and stern.

"What key? Oh," he looks down at my bloodied ankle and smirks. "There's no key, Essie darling."

I step closer to him, looking up at those arrogant eyes, I realize I'm too choice to him. Close enough that I feel a wet hand circle my throat. I look down and notice my ice has melted.

"How's that even possible?"

"You're in my court, Elsandra." He blows a cool mist over my face, and that dark fog comes back. It drapes over me like a blanket. Yet, before I surrender to the blackness, I hear Jay mutter four words. Words that sent shivers down my already frozen back. "I am the impossible."

**Sorry about missing my deadline! I had some family matters to take care of. I hope you enjoyed!**


	6. Pray

I woke up with a stinging sensation on my hip. The chain was removed and I looked around the room to see it empty. On the couch lay fresh clothing. I stood and looked at the reason for my pain.

I gasped as I noticed the letter J carved into my left hipbone with black ink. Was I cattle to him, I was pissed. I removed my clothing being tender around the new mark. I pulled on the black leather pants, then the black bra which was embedded with black diamonds. Finally the coat which stopped at my waist in the front but ran to the floor behind me. The blacks boots were better then heels and I looked like death incarnate but then again that's how I felt.

I reached for the door knob and found it unlocked. What did I do to deserve such luxury? The hallways were empty so I wandered. I felt a strange pull down certain hallways and when I came to a room full of utensils clinking against plates I stopped in the door.

The entire court stops and looks up at me. Black isn't a normal color in Eria, but I match Jay, the only other one wearing black. Jay stands and whistles at me like a dog.

"Come." So I obey like the dog I am.

I come around the table and he kicks the chair to the right of him out from under the table. I take that as a cue to sit.

"Well, Jack, I see you trained her. Although the hair looks like a rat's nest." The king looked me up and down, shaking his head at my hair.

Jay looks at me and scoffed, "Are you some incompetent barbarian? Do something with the mess on your head."

I was too flushed to be even more embarrassed so I took my hair over my right shoulder and braided it down. Nothing regal, but at least I look less like a 'incompetent barbarian'.

Jay scoffs and stands up, pushing the chair away from the table. The court instantly stops and stands to witness his 'greatness'. He takes hold of my left arm and drags me through the room and out into the hall. He waves the guards off and shoves me into a hidden alcove.

Without hesitation and without any form of resistance, he places his hands on my hips and pulls me close. His lips touch mine and for a second I'm caught up in his touch.

He cradles my face with his hand, and I give in to him. My arms wrap around his neck and my fingers tangle in his hair.

I hate him so much, but the intensity, the electric vibration of us touching makes me go numb. He makes me forget about my troubles and in this instance I let him carry me.

He pulls away and the evil grin is back. I become mute with fear.

"You're mine."

I narrow my eyes and gain some sense, "I'm nobody's." I push on his shoulders but he doesn't budge. Instead he presses his thumb into that fresh tattoo.

"You're mine," he repeats. "All of Llewelyn will know that you are mine to touch, talk, and to take."

"You're sick."

He shrugs, "I might be, but I don't want my investment running off on me."

"_Investment_? This is bullshit." I finally get away from his grasp, and with a swift swipe I let my nails turn to icicles and sliced his cheek. A bright red line appeared where my nail was.

He appears to smile in return, "I enjoy a girl with claws."

"Go to hell."

"Oh, Essie darling, I'm already there."

I pushed away from him and walked away with two guards blocking my way.

"Let her go," the prince says behind me and they obey him.

I look back once more at the prince that I want to kill but also want to love, and flee from the castle.

"Put me in," I slap a few coins onto the betting table.

The man looks up at me and laughs. "You're just a girl. Go home."

I was about to argue when I familiar voice speaks behind me. "I'll take her."

The men behind the table shrug and say, "You're reputation."

I turned around and gasped, "Kris?"

"What are doing down here in the sewer brawls, Essie?" Kris folds his arms, looking down at me.

"I could ask you the same, Kris. Any news, about her?"

"Nothing," he shakes his head. "Not since the attack from Taunder."

"She's out there, I know it."

"Looks like you aren't going anywhere for awhile."

I look back up at him, "Why do you say that?"

"No one will fight you, because they all see the Prince's mark."

I looked down and sure enough my shirt raised just a little bit and there was the J.

"Therefore, I fold." He says to the betting table and my little pile of money grows by three more coins.

"Kris—."

"Finish what you're doing in Eria and come home. You were the village's only leader. Some still call you a queen."

I scoff, "Queen of a village filled with misfits."

"If I remember correctly, those misfits, gave you and your sister a home after everything you lost."

I exhaled, knowing he was right. "Okay, I'll do what I can."

"Use this newfound contraction," he pointed to the J, "and try and get the prince on board."

"The prince only cares for himself."

"I don't know, Essie, he clothes you, fed you, and now gave you a mark which makes you untouchable in Eria."

"Doesn't he sound like a smug bastard?"

"He sounds like he's protecting you. Look, I got to get back. Write to the village, here's the information," he hands me a strip of paper and I put it into the pocket of my coat. "Good luck."

I nod, with a few tears welling in my eyes. He gives me one more reassuring smile before turning away and disappearing into the darkness.

"Who's next?" This time the voice is deep and burly.

I turn around and look at the man four times my size. "Oh, fuck."

_Him_

Her lips tasted of peppermint. 

Her hair smelled of apples. 

Her skin smells of fresh snow,

Yet her eyes tell me no. 

—_from the diary of Prince Jack Frost_


End file.
